Son of Shame
by Bookjunk
Summary: In the aftermath of Jax becoming club president, Juice discovers something else about himself that threatens his peace of mind. (Image made by the awesome Gatergirl79)
1. This life

_Slash_

**Chapter One: This life**

Juice hadn't thought that he could discover something about himself that was worse than who his father had been. To even think like that made him feel slightly disgusted with himself, because what was wrong with being black? But there were rules and traditions and the club stuck to them. Chibs might have treated the news about his father's race with a nonchalance that had been sincere, but this was different. This was so different that Juice didn't know what to do. He was still stuck at trying to convince himself that it was a choice.

Not like his roots at all. This was inside him, like a switch he could flip and it would be gone. So, no one would ever have to find out. No one would ever have to know. It was a choice and he could simply decide to be... _not that_. Then everything would be fine.

This year had done a number on him and he deserved some peace of mind. Between Potter and Roosevelt and Miles and every stupid decision he had made, he was due for a break. One good decision to balance out the wrong ones. So, he had decided that: yes, this was a choice.

Except it fucking wasn't. And he knew it. He could feel it in every bone in his body. The way his skin prickled with sweat. It ached and men weren't supposed to ache for anything; especially not this.

For the millionth time, he wondered why it couldn't have been Jax. Jax was objectively handsome. Then, at least, he'd be able to pretend that it was a purely physical thing. That was bad enough in itself.

He had dreamed about Jax once. It had been met only with embarrassment in the morning. He had dreamed about Tara and Gemma and several porn actresses he wasn't remotely interested in too. When that happened, you chuckled and moved on with your life. Dreams meant nothing.

However, the night after Jax assumed his role as club president, Juice woke up clutching at the sheets. It was the familiar nightmare about shooting Miles. Its vividness remained alarming. He swore he could _feel_ the blood spatters on his face. To have something to do, he checked the time. It was almost 2 a.m.

With his heart still racing, he lay back down. That was when it popped into his head. Just a thought. _I wish Chibs were here_. It felt completely natural. Like cleaning out your apartment and finding something. The unexpectedness couldn't disguise the fact that the feeling had been there for God knows how long. And when he thought about it - which he didn't want to, but it wasn't as if he was going back to sleep after that shit – Juice discovered that it perhaps wasn't all that sudden and surprising after all.

The feeling filled him with shame. He honestly didn't think he could do this again. The hiding, the secrets, the lying: it had almost done him in before. The murder of Miles had factored into it, but it had mostly been the sustained effort of constantly conning his friends.

After a largely sleepless night, Juice wasn't sure he was cut out for this life. Not that he was contemplating drastic measures yet, but it definitely posed a problem. This was the only life he knew. The only family he had.

Over a sandwich that remained untouched, he tried to find a solution. The trouble was that he was not a good liar to begin with and when it came to his damn crushes he was even worse. Every single girl that he had ever liked had immediately known. His jokes became a little clumsier, his looks a little longer and more intense: it wasn't hard to spot. He practically telegraphed every emotion he felt.

A few short raps on the door startled him. Hesitantly, he got up and opened the door.

'You ready, Juicy-boy?'

Juice shrugged absentmindedly and grabbed his cut, attempting to mask the newfound shame attached to his nickname. When he turned around, he almost collided with Chibs, who was blocking the doorway. The smile on Chibs face turned into a serious expression.

'You look like shite. Everythin' alright?' Chibs asked. His voice was laced with concern. No, I simply know now that I want you, Juice thought. Instead of going with a truth that would probably earn him nothing but disgust, he grinned sheepishly and mumbled something about having had a rough night.

'Aye, I know what you mean.'

Chibs's expression softened, but Juice noticed that it didn't lose its wariness. Artificially chipper, Juice slipped past him. There was no contact, which was just as well. Their proximity was enough to make Juice feel flushed and hot. He was in no state to fool anyone, least of all Chibs. This was going to be a long fucking day.


	2. Girl from the North Country

**Chapter Two: Girl from the North Country**

Though Chibs suspected that something was wrong, Juice got through the day okay.

With a bit of luck, Juice thought, I will get lost in the shuffle. The early days of Jax's presidency were not without problems. After Tig's stupid stunt, Laroy was gunning for them. Clay was still in the hospital. The deal with the real IRA and the cartel was on hold. Opie was MIA and everybody was fucking tense. Hopefully, Chibs had enough on his plate to worry about why Juice was acting strange.

Nonetheless, hiss nerves were frayed. He needed to do something to take the edge off. Usually when he wanted to blow off steam, he'd go to Ruby. The others often teased him about her, because he was seemingly unable to permanently break up with her. Well, that was what he was counting on now.

Against Jax's explicit instructions that no Son was to go anywhere alone, Juice left the club house and went over to Ruby's. If anyone asked later where he'd been, he'd grin and tell the truth. Everyone would believe he was dumb enough to risk it, because they all thought he was an idiot anyway.

The front door was wide open. He knocked demurely, but eventually entered when no one answered. Practically the whole family seemed to be gathered in the living room. One of her brothers told him that she was in her room.

'Ruby! Juan Carlos here for you,' they yelled up the stairs. Instead of staying put, where the women and the men ogled his cut with interest and tried to make conversation, Juice opted to go upstairs.

The thought of having sex with Ruby when her entire family was in the house suddenly made him nervous, though he could hardly remember a time when there hadn't been at least one member of her family at home. The closer he came to her room, the louder the music got and the more he feared that he wouldn't be attracted to her any longer.

It was a real relief to see her sprawled on the bed in her tight jeans and tank top, humming along to a song he didn't know, and to feel his dick twitch at the sight. She was oblivious to his presence. Obviously, she had not heard her brothers calling or him coming up the stairs over the music. Her attention was riveted on her toe nails, which she was leisurely painting. Shit, he had almost forgotten how much he liked her feet.

Her long, black hair almost reached down to her waist. Her top exposed a strip of skin of her lower back where a flower tattoo resided. Her arms were slender. Her feet were delicate and graceful, as always. She was hot as hell.

While he watched her from the doorway, Juice began to relax. Everything was fine. He still wanted to fuck her. Sensing that someone was looking at her, Ruby turned off the radio and faced him.

'Hi,' he mumbled.

'Hi,' she responded. Her voice was flat. She regarded him with that mixture of pleasure and annoyance that no one else could match. Uniquely her own. It was hard to imagine anyone else managing to capture those two emotions in one look.

'Come in,' she urged, impatiently. Obliging quickly, he crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him. While she cleared the bed of magazines, nail polish and clothes, he took off his jacket. He draped it carefully over a chair. This earned him an amused and slightly derisive snort from Ruby; he pretended not to hear.

She pulled her top off, revealing the black bra underneath. Juice reluctantly approached the bed. Her skin was smooth and warm under his fingers as he helped her out of her jeans. The ceiling light was on, illuminating her body. It was supposed to be an unforgiving light, highlighting her physical imperfections, but Ruby didn't have any.

Trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach, Juice shed his own clothes and climbed in bed with her.

'Condoms?' she asked. He shook his head.

'Figures,' she muttered, sharply. This normally did it for him. The harsh comments. The scornful look she would give him. He would let her dominate him and enjoy every minute of it. Her lust was so close to contempt and it had never failed to turn him on before. Until now.

Didn't matter that he was rock hard as she put on the condom. Didn't matter that she was so damn beautiful. Juice wasn't feeling it. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her, but in a theoretical way. Kind of like how he at times thought about getting a new fridge. The old one worked fine and he had no intention of going through the hassle of buying a new fridge. It was just a thing that he sometimes liked to think about.

This was screwed up. He had about as much interest in having sex with Ruby as he had in purchasing a new kitchen appliance, which was to say: none. Gently, he pushed her away and started to put on his clothes. Exasperated, she frowned at him.

'Are you fucking kidding me with this? Why'd you come here if you didn't want to?' she demanded angrily. Searching for an explanation, he zipped his pants.

'I wanted to want it.'

She stared at him with disbelief. Juice looked at her in all her naked glory. It did absolutely nothing for him. His dick appreciated the view and all, but emotionally he felt nothing. How wrong was that? Since when did he want to fuck women _theoretically_? Since when did he need to feel anything_ emotionally_ to get laid? Shaking his head, he put on his jacket.

'You're so full of shit,' she finally said. She sounded angry, but also apprehensive. Maybe she felt the shift too. Maybe she also realised that he'd stopped caring about her.

'I wish...'

Ruby ordered him out of the room. Just as well. He wasn't sure he could have finished that sentence anyway. Quietly, he descended the stairs and peeled out of there. He took a major detour to his apartment. It couldn't be called a detour anymore, technically, since he was actively trying not to go home.

Not so long ago, he had thought that he loved Ruby. Now he couldn't even be bothered to sleep with her. What the hell was wrong with him? Was it that he could only feel that way about one person at a time? And was this new person Chibs, of all people?

It was dark when Juice arrived at his apartment. He had tried to answer these questions for the greater part of the evening and didn't like one single answer he had arrived at. How the hell could he want Chibs when he'd – apart from that one dream about Jax – never thought about a guy that way?

Sighing, he parked his bike. His shoulders were stiff, so he shook them loose. His stomach growled. There was probably a frozen pizza in the freezer, if he hadn't run out of them.

Juice entered the hall, put his helmet on the side table by the door and shrugged out of his cut. He put it on a coat hanger in the hallway closet. Then he went to the kitchen and switched on the light. At first, he thought it was either a nightmare or a wish come true, then Chibs took a drag from his cigarette and Juice realised that Chibs was really there.

'You scared me half to death,' Juice admitted, laughing nervously. Immediately, he turned away, but nothing could erase the image of Chibs sitting at his kitchen table. Comfortable to his core, as if he was home. His gun on the table, yes, but still extraordinarily at ease.

'Good. Why don't you answer your phone?'

With his back to his friend, Juice dug his phone out of his pocket and checked it to find six missed calls flashing on the screen. All from Chibs.

'Sorry. I was with Ruby,' he half-lied, 'Was it anything important?'

'Nobody was supposed to go out on his own.'

'You came here alone,' Juice pointed out. He felt like such a shamefaced coward, but he was afraid to turn around. He was afraid that he would give it away with one look.

Slowly, he opened the fridge. He wasn't hungry anymore, but he needed time to think. This was getting more fucked up by the second. He couldn't even face Chibs. What the hell was he going to do? What would the club do? What... What would Chibs do?

'I covered for you. _Again_. Jesus Christ, Juice, I was fuckin' worried. And now you're going to tell me what's eating you.'

(***)

Author's note: Just wanted to say that the story title and chapter titles all come from songs featured on the Sons of Anarchy soundtracks.

Oh, and if Juice's elusive ex-girlfriend's name has been mentioned, I missed it, so I'm going with Ruby.


	3. The times they are a changin'

**Chapter Three: The times they are a-changin'**

Think. There's enough shit going on to be losing sleep over. Think quickly, Juice urged. Think of something. Anything. He turned around and cleared his throat.

'I'm not happy about the Laroy situation.'

Chibs looked at him – right through him, it seemed – and, taking his time, he exhaled three tiny puffs of smoke. His eyes remained fixed on Juice as the smoke vanished. Trying to maintain eye contact, Juice tugged at his shirt. He played with the hem, until Chibs's disapproving look made him release the fabric and keep his hands steady at his sides. After a tense silence, Chibs responded.

'Bullshit. Nobody's happy about that, but I don't see any of the others jitterin' and sweatin' all over the place. You ain't still hung up about that half-arsed attempt at blackmail, are you?'

Juice flinched. However, before he could gather his wits and insist that it did still bother him – which wasn't entirely besides the truth - Chibs dismissed the idea. He shook his head and tapped the ash of his cigarette into the ugly, clay ashtray on the table.

'No, that ain't it. It's something else,' Chibs murmured. Speculatively, he looked at Juice, as if he'd be able to get it out of him by the sheer force of his will. With a nod, he indicated that Juice should sit down, but Juice was good right where he was. In any case, standing by the kitchen counter was so much better than being close to Chibs.

'Okay, you're right. It's about the future of the club. I'm just wondering whether we'll survive,' Juice rambled. He finally allowed himself the luxury of wiping the sweat off his brow. Just by looking at him, Juice could tell that Chibs was not buying it.

'That's a legitimate concern, but it ain't what's eating at you. And I swear that if you try to feed me any more of this shite, I'll beat it out of you,' Chibs warned. He smiled, though it was obvious that he wasn't kidding. They both waited. Juice; leaning against the counter, attempting a casual pose. Chibs; effortlessly calm, sucking on his cigarette.

It was a strangely sensual gesture. Something to do with the way he closed his lips around the tip. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Juice thought.

It was all falling apart. _He_ was falling apart. He was tired and afraid. Telling Chibs might well be the worst thing he could do. On the other hand, it could also be the best thing. The last time that he had thought that he was in possession of a secret that could be his undoing, he had gotten blackmailed into betraying his club only to find out that in the end, his secret was of no consequence. It was Chibs who had told him that it didn't matter. It was Chibs who had reassured him.

Either way, Juice would know once and for all whether his fear was justified. Sighing, he shoved a chair back and sat down opposite his friend. He was very careful to keep his distance. No knees brushing against knees.

Chibs slid his pack across the table. Gratefully and without touching Chibs's fingers, Juice took out a cigarette. He tapped it on the side of the table, while he fished in his pocket for a lighter, but Chibs beat him to it. A little too eagerly, he leaned forward.

There was an element of flirtation involved in accepting a light, he had always thought. Intimacy, even between strangers, was instantly created. Ruby used to accept a light for her cigarette by softly touching his fingers, drawing in the flame. Juice took a deep drag and tried to banish all inappropriate thoughts of Chibs from his mind. It wasn't easy.

'Thanks. Can't you let it slide?' Juice tried, in a last ditch effort. Chibs put out his stub in the ashtray and lit a new one. Appearing to mull it over, he scratched his chin before answering.

'After your attempt to shuffle off this mortal coil? Hell no.'

They stared at each other. Juice's mind was racing. Contrary to what the majority of the club thought, he wasn't an idiot. He knew that things were fucked up at the moment. Under the surface, the club was in even more shit than the superficial trouble with their deals and alliances indicated. Tig's guilt about his failure to prevent Clay from getting shot was messing with his head. Things between Clay, Gemma, Jax and Tara were fucking tense. Opie's continued absence seemed to suggest that he had some sort of issue with the entire Charming charter.

It was all relative, but right now Chibs was one of the few Sons who were okay. Juice hated to think that he was adding more trouble to the mix, but he was tired of lying. Couldn't do it anymore. After everything that Chibs had done for him, he owed him an honest answer. Still, he discovered it was hard to find the words. The sad truth was that Chibs's reaction was far more important to him than the reaction of the club.

'When Jax asked you, you said you were fine,' Chibs prodded.

'I was.'

'What changed?' Chibs inquired. He extinguished his cigarette, despite the fact that he had barely lit it.

'Nothing,' Juice said. Everything, he thought. Chibs's stare turned brutal. In one swift movement, he stood up. His chair clattered to the floor.

'What the fuck are you doing then?' Chibs asked. His anger was restrained, yet so terrifying. Taking a slow drag from his cigarette, Juice remained seated. Chibs towered over him, panting with fury, but Juice stayed silent. Chibs's piercing gaze was beginning to unnerve him, though.

'Well?' Chibs growled, impatiently.

_I can't protect you if I don't know what you're hiding._ That's what Juice wanted to hear, but that wasn't going to happen. Chibs's loyalty was first and foremost to Fiona and Kerrianne, then to the club and then to Jax. If the secret could hurt the club then there was no telling what Chibs would do. All Juice could hope for was a little sympathy.

'I wish it wasn't true,' Juice whispered. His head drooped in shame. He looked up at Chibs, appealing for mercy. Upon seeing his misery, Chibs uttered a few heartfelt profanities and picked up his chair. Resigned, he sat back down. His tone was considerably gentler when he continued.

'Come on, Juicy-boy. It's me. Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as you think it is. Tell me,' he pleaded. Without agonising about it one second longer, Juice spoke.

'I think I love you.'

Confused, Chibs regarded him. It was plain to see that he thought this was merely a preamble to the real confession.

'I love you too,' he simply responded. Wearily, Juice shook his head. He felt sick to his stomach. The fingers that were holding his cigarette were trembling, despite his efforts to keep them steady.

'No,' Juice insisted, 'not the way I love you.' He watched Chibs closely as his friend realised what he was trying to say.

'Damn.'

'Yeah, damn,' Juice repeated dully. Echoing the sentiment was pretty much all he felt up to at the moment. Chibs got up and paced through the kitchen, glancing at him every now and then. The Scotsman raked his hand through his hair. Juice continued to watch him. He felt nauseous. The cigarette was the only thing that helped him preserve his composure.

'Jesus Christ, Juice,' Chibs muttered. Suddenly, he seemed to make a decision. He took his gun from the table and shoved it in his waistband.

'Grab your gear,' he said. Then he walked out of the kitchen. Juice scrambled to grab his helmet and cut and follow him outside. He had trouble fastening the chin straps, because his hands were shaking so much. Finally, they were secured and he was ready. He looked at Chibs for some sort of cue, but Chibs's expression was inscrutable. Without sparing Juice a glance, he started the engine and issued a final order over the roar.

'Follow me to the club.'


	4. Gimme shelter

**Chapter Four: Gimme shelter**

'Pussy?' Jax asked, as Juice was led into the club house. Before Juice realised that the question was directed at him, Chibs answered.

'Yeah, Ruby.'

Behind Jax's back, Tig gave Juice a gross wink, but he hardly noticed. He was too busy processing what was happening. If Chibs had taken him to the club to tell everyone, then why not come right out and say 'no, dick?' Why drag it out? And why was everyone here anyway? Excepting the dead, only Clay and Bobby Elvis were missing. Tara nodded at Jax before retiring to a room in the back while Gemma remained standing by the bar.

'Moron,' Jax said and lightly slapped the back of Juice's head. He smiled dopily; still unsure of what exactly was going on.

'Listen,' Jax began, addressing everyone. Apparently reluctant to continue, he paused, before continuing anyway.

'It won't be safe until we straighten out this thing with Laroy, so I want all of you to stay here. You sleep here. You eat here. If you need to go out: never on your own. That counts for members and prospects alike.'

A pointed look was reserved for Juice during the speech, but Jax briefly made eye contact with everyone. An awkward silence ensued. Juice didn't get it. Laroy: _that_ was the threat? Sure, their ranks were greatly diminished, but it seemed that Jax might be overreacting. They couldn't hide. That didn't look good. It would make them look weak and appearances were everything.

Judging by the looks being shared, everyone else felt pretty much the same. However, no one was especially eager to openly question Jax's authority and judgment. Suddenly, Juice wasn't worried about his own problems anymore, though he absolutely didn't want to be stuck there with Chibs 24/7. Eventually, it was Tig – of all people – who cleared his throat and stepped forward. Chibs shot him a warning glance. Either Tig didn't see it or he didn't care.

'That'll look...' he hesitantly started. Before he could finish his sentence, however, Jax turned on him.

'I don't give a shit how it looks!' Jax snarled. He had to visibly restrain himself. Gritting his teeth, he reduced his response to a muttered, 'Tig, I swear to God,' before stalking off. His mother tried to stop him. Without so much as acknowledging her presence, Jax brushed past her and disappeared in the same direction as Tara. When Tig made a move as if to follow him, Chibs blocked Tig's path. There was a brief standoff between the two of them, until Chibs just slowly shook his head.

'I know, I know' Tig replied. Throwing his arms up in frustration, he walked outside. Some cool air seeped in before the door closed. The tension in the club simmered down somewhat. Immediately, Juice felt the anxiety over his own situation returning. As he turned to Chibs, Chibs gruffly suggested that he get some sleep.

The prospects guided Juice to his sleeping place. Ratboy and Filthy Phil changed – which amounted to little more than taking off their cuts and shoes – and crept under the covers. They whispered to each other for a while about the recent developments, attempting to draw Juice into the conversation, but Juice pretended to be asleep. What did it mean that Chibs hadn't said anything yet? Was Chibs going to bring it up in the morning? How was he supposed to sleep with this fucking thing hanging over him?

Juice listened with all his might, but he couldn't understand a thing of the talk that was being held at the bar. It wasn't a very lively one; that was clear. Sometimes nothing was said for minutes on end. Occasionally, Chibs would speak. Juice knew it was him by the Scottish lilt, but he couldn't make out a single word. Gemma chimed in too and after a while Tig came in.

This went on for ages. Juice had half a mind to get up and join them, but he was too much of a chickenshit. He didn't want to get kicked out of the club sooner than was necessary. So, he waited until chairs scraped over the floor, doors opened and closed and everything was silent.

He listened to the snoring of the prospects. He categorised Ratboy's breathing as more wheeze than snore. He lay wide awake staring at the ceiling for hours. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He worried and then he worried some more, until he couldn't take it any longer.

Quietly, he threw off the blanket and snuck out of the club. The cold night was a welcome distraction after the warmth inside. There were some lights on in the garage lot, but their light didn't quite reach the club. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see a pinprick of light by the picnic table. It turned bright red before fading a bit.

'Couldn't sleep either?'

Chibs's voice startled him. Juice shuffled closer, going by the scent of the cigarette, until he bumped against the table. Chibs said nothing to make him think that he should go away, so Juice sat down on the bench.

'There were... things on my mind,' he admitted. The cigarette end lit up again, giving a better idea of Chibs's position: he was sitting on top of the table. He shifted a little. Juice heard it, but could still only vaguely make out the shape of him. He wondered whether Chibs was looking at him, facing him, or not.

'You've got nothin' to be ashamed of,' Chibs baldly stated. The topic they were discussing was unmistakable. Taken aback, Juice looked up at him. The light from the lot framed Chibs, blurring his edges and making it impossible to see the expression on his face. One thing was clear: he was staring into the distance. Again, the ease with which Chibs managed to get to the heart of the matter was amazing.

'No?' Juice said. He wanted to believe that it could be that simple; but he felt unable to do just that. He wanted to feel relieved, but he didn't dare.

'No,' Chibs confirmed. There was a pause during which Juice allowed for the possibility that this might actually be true and Chibs took another drag from his cigarette. Out of the blue, Chibs added, 'Tig'll do anything on two legs.'

Puzzled at the sudden change of subject, Juice tried to figure out what Chibs could possibly mean. Later, he blamed his constant worrying, the severe lack of sleep and the late hour for his clueless response.

'What, like animals or something?'

Chibs merely chuckled at the suggestion. It took a couple of seconds before Juice made the connection. It was simultaneously a mind blowing and not entirely unexpected revelation. Juice was surprised at the sense it made. Thinking back, this new context shed a revealing light on a lot of Tig's more bizarre comments. Still, Juice found it difficult to believe.

'The club knows? And they're fine with it?'

'We've all been in prison. As long as Tig doesn't introduce a guy as his old lady, nobody's got a problem with it,' Chibs elaborated. He was very matter of fact about it. It was eerie. Apparently, Tig's lack of sexual preference was common knowledge even though Juice had never heard anyone talk about it before. Maybe they didn't talk about it.

'Kind of like don't ask, don't tell,' Juice mumbled.

'Aye.'

'So... we're good?'

It was the million dollar question. That, as far as the club was concerned, nothing had changed was fucking great, but Juice really needed Chibs to be okay with it. The Scotsman cast another long look far beyond the fences surrounding the lot and nodded.

'We're good.'

(***)

It hadn't even been a day since Jax had ordered the lockdown. Hell, technically it was still the very same day as when Jax had uttered those fateful words.

'Stay here.'

Nobody was especially happy about it. He suspected it reminded everyone a little too much of jail. It wouldn't have been so bad if there was something to do, but, honestly, being cooped up had never agreed with Juice.

Yeah, sure, Clay needed to be out of the hospital for them to finalise the deal with the Irish. Rationally, Juice got it. Emotionally, this sitting around and waiting was killing him. So, per Jax's suggestion, he was upgrading their security. The cameras showed that Happy was out in the lot with Gemma and the prospects.

From the prospects' demeanour you would have guessed they were relaxing, but Gemma and Happy looked decidedly not relaxed. Gemma looked irritated and Happy just menacing, as usual. Ready to snap someone's neck - if asked to.

There was nothing much to watch. There was a group of kids standing by the gate. None of the boys looked to be over twenty and most of them were dressed in hoodies and baggy jeans. The colours of their clothes were subdued. Black, grey, navy and one oversized, camouflage shirt. Juice had considered trying to get Happy to scare them off, but they weren't really doing anything. Unlike Tig, who for the past half hour had been annoying the shit out of Juice by suddenly popping up behind him and looking over his shoulder at the security footage as if he expected something bad to happen.

'Fuckin' kids,' Tig mumbled, before he plopped down on the couch again. Juice knew what came next. Tig got up again after three seconds and jumped up the stripper platform. Presumably, he walked around the pole again; Juice wasn't looking. Then Tig sauntered over to the dartboard again and picked up the darts. Juice didn't have to look to know that Tig was giving them a stare full of existential woe before putting them down and veering in his direction. Again.

This was approximately the 25th time that Tig performed this little routine and it took all of Juice's restraint to stay civil. To take his mind of the hovering presence behind him, Juice calculated how long Chibs and Jax had been away. They had gone to visit Bobby Elvis in prison. That was something Juice would have liked to do, because it would at least have gotten him out of here.

After ten more minutes of Tig breathing in his ear, Juice got a respite when Tig went to the bathroom. Juice noticed that Jax and Chibs were rolling to a stop at the gate. They got off their bikes and chatted with the kids. The talk seemed amiably, though Jax was probably telling them to clear out. At the back of the group, there was movement and Juice thought he saw that the boy with the camouflage gear had a gun.

Oh fuck, he thought, as he raced out the door. He hollered at Happy, who immediately jumped up to follow him. Unaware of the danger, Jax and Chibs were still talking to the kids. Without explaining to anyone what was going on, Juice shoved Chibs aside. Happy had his back, Juice knew. He broke through the circle of boys and put a knife to the throat of the green shirted one.

'Drop the gun,' Juice ordered. His heart was pounding like crazy. His fingers were slippery with sweat around the knife's handle. He gazed into the boy's brown eyes and observed that the kid's pupils were dilated with fear. The boy looked barely a day over fifteen. Jax demanded to know what was wrong. Ignoring him, Juice urged the boy a second time to comply.

'Drop your weapon. Now.'

The boy dropped what he had been holding. It didn't sound like a gun; probably because it wasn't a gun. Already starting to feel stupid, Juice backed off.

'What the hell, dude?' the boy muttered. They all stared at his black iPhone lying on the floor. It didn't even _look_ like a gun. For maximum humiliation, Ratboy and Filthy Phil also joined them. Comically slow, the bikers' focus shifted from the cell to Juice and their faces pretty much agreed with the kid he had attacked for no reason: what the fuck? Gemma snickered softly as she realised what had happened.

Clumsily, Juice apologised to the boy and the kids left. Jax approached Juice. The club president seemed weary, as if he had also done more tossing and turning than actual sleeping in the last few nights.

'You need a break from surveillance. Go collect some clothes and stuff from your place with Chibs. Take a car,' he suggested. Juice glanced at Chibs. The assignment didn't please the Scotsman; that much was obvious. Jax and Chibs mounted their bikes and rode them onto the lot. The two of them parked and went inside. After a brief interval, Chibs came out again and directed Juice towards a car.

In complete silence, they drove to Juice's apartment. It was hard to tell – because Chibs refused to look at him – but Juice guessed that Chibs was pissed off. When they arrived, Juice went in alone and quickly threw clothes, razor, toothbrush and other essentials into a duffel bag. He dreaded the ride back, so - after assembling everything he needed - he sat down on the bed. His damn hands were trembling again. He lit a cigarette to sooth his nerves.

'Keep it together,' he whispered. He had slipped up. He knew it; Chibs knew it and Jax suspected something too. It felt like he was sliding back into the same state of constant paranoia as before he had killed Miles. He needed to calm down. At least Jax didn't know the whole of it. He probably just thought Juice couldn't handle the club's shit.

Outside, the car door slammed shut. He tried to stand up, but it was already too late. Chibs was barging in. When he saw that Juice was just sitting there, looking defeated, it only enraged him further.

'Stop acting like a fuckin' idiot! If you keep this up, how long do you think it will take for the club to decide that you're a liability?'

Juice nodded listlessly and got to his feet to grab his duffel bag off the floor. Chibs barred his way.

'You've got nothin' to say for yourself?'

When Juice tried to sidestep him, Chibs pushed him back. They were so close and Juice didn't feel a thing. He had screwed up. He was supposed to act normal; to not let it show that he cared far more about this man before him than he should care about a friend. Instead, at the mere thought of something happening to him, Juice had rushed out, roughly elbowed Chibs out of harm's way and confronted a perceived armed assailant with a knife. Not even with a gun. With a fucking knife.

The others might think that he was a fool, but the two of them knew the truth. Juice wasn't surprised that it freaked Chibs out. It freaked him the hell out too.

'Look, I'm sorry,' Juice said, 'I shouldn't have reacted like that. Didn't mean to, you know. I wish I had handled it differently.'

Unspoken words hung, heavy, in the air, in the empty space between them. Juice felt he could walk around for days bumping into things he hadn't said. For example,_ I wish I was different_. And, _I wish these feelings would go away. _And, _I wish I didn't want you right now_. And, _I wish I really wanted those things: I wish I wasn't a liar._ He slumped onto the bed.

'Fat lot of good wishing's gonna do: what's done's done,' Chibs mumbled. That didn't make it any better, though. Juice rubbed at his temples. He felt a headache coming on. Chibs sat down next to him, patting his hand. Encouraged by the comforting gesture, Juice looked up, but Chibs avoided his gaze.

'Tell me that nothing has changed,' Juice requested. And, _I wish I wasn't too much of a coward to ask what it is I really want to know._

'Nothing has changed,' Chibs repeated, adding an extremely tentative, 'Juicy.' The older man groaned as he righted himself and hoisted Juice's bag onto his shoulder. Juice followed, but no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to catch Chibs's eye. On their way back to the club, Juice realised that Chibs hadn't looked directly at him once the entire day. Not since the night before.

And, _I wish you weren't a fucking liar._


	5. Fortunate son

**Chapter Five: Fortunate son**

A couple of days later.

'Leave the door open,' Juice requested. Ratboy obeyed, pausing to jam something under the door to prevent it from closing behind him before coming inside. Not that it made a difference. The heat was so intense that a breeze would hardly have helped. As it was, the breeze was nonexistent.

'Want a beer?'

Juice swivelled round and accepted the drink Ratboy extended towards him. Condensation caused him to clutch the chilled bottle tighter to prevent it from slipping from his grasp. He unscrewed the top and enjoyed the first cold sip.

'Thanks.'

He tried to think of something else to say to start a conversation, but came up empty. 'Hot, huh?' wasn't exactly thought provoking material after several days with equally high temperatures.

Nonetheless, Ratboy nodded in agreement. His face sported an unnatural colour: he was slightly sunburned. Juice hadn't ventured outside much, but he only needed to look at the prospect to confirm his suspicion that it was far worse outside than inside. At least the club house had air conditioning.

All set to resume his surveillance, Juice noticed the second bottle in the prospect's hand. He contemplated downing his drink in a hurry and claiming that one too, but Ratboy seemed to read his thoughts.

'It's for Chibs,' he quickly explained.

A cursory glance at the cameras showed that Chibs was currently lying underneath a car. His attempt to locate the problem had taken up most of the morning. Fixing the problem promised to last the better part of the afternoon. Juice had followed the slow progress; careful not to spend too much time watching that single section of the lot. So, he'd also monitored the gate and observed how Ratboy was never far removed from an increasingly irritated Gemma.

'I'll take it to him,' Juice offered.

'No, that's okay. I'll do it,' Ratboy insisted. The prospect wasn't going to part with the beer easily. Apparently, he was afraid that Juice would drink it himself. Not an entirely unwarranted suspicion. Juice got up with a groan. The groan was courtesy of his stiff back.

That chair and the screens had been his world for the last few of days. He had practically been glued to them. Yet, he hadn't seen anything worth reporting. Nothing had happened with regards to the Laroy: Juice wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. Either way, his eyes needed a rest.

'Okay. I'll come with.'

When he stepped outside after Ratboy, Juice was struck by the sudden shift in temperature. Somehow he still hadn't counted on it being this fucking hot. It seemed as if the weather right now was just preparation. The heat wave wasn't the main event: these dog days were nothing more than a prelude to the storm that would inevitably break. Soon.

Only Chibs's shoes were visible. They poked out from under the front bumper. Juice softly kicked the left one. Chibs rolled himself out from under the car. He was wearing jeans and a black sleeveless shirt. Shielding his eyes against the sun, he squinted.

'Beer? Gemma said you could use refreshments,' Ratboy told them. With the back of his hand, Chibs wiped the sweat off his glistening forehead. Before taking the proffered bottle, he acknowledged Juice's presence with a tight nod. Juice didn't take it personal, because it wasn't.

Following the confession and the incident at the gate, Juice was trying his hardest to pretend that the status quo was more or less restored to normal. It appeared that Chibs was doing the same. The Scotsman still hadn't properly looked at him, but that was alright. It was a lot to process. For now, everything was as alright as it could be.

'She said that, huh?' Chibs asked. His eyes roamed around the lot until they came to rest on Juice. Then, to his amazement, Chibs winked. Flushed, Juice swallowed.

'Didn't Jax ask you to keep an eye on her?' Chibs continued. Amused, he looked again at Juice. They exchanged a knowing glance.

'Yeah,' Ratboy nervously confirmed. His gaze flitted between the two men. He grew more agitated by the second. He clearly didn't understand what they were getting at, so Juice finally took pity on him.

'She gave you the slip.'

'Probably long gone by now,' Chibs added. It was difficult to figure out whether this was meant to reassure the prospect or to further fuel his distress. It didn't matter, since Ratboy didn't hear it. He swiftly went to investigate the main office of the garage. Realising he was still holding his half finished beer; Juice brought the forgotten bottle to his mouth. It was lukewarm by now, but hid his smile nicely. When Ratboy came out of the office, he scanned the lot. Not seeing Gemma anywhere, he panicked.

Juice glanced at Chibs, to discover that Chibs was also having trouble keeping a straight face. Both looked away, only to immediately crack up. Their laughter only became louder as the prospect crossed the lot and ran into the club house. Still giddy, Juice noticed a smudge of blood on Chibs's shoulder above his tattooed cross. Had he cut himself? Juice transferred the bottle to his other hand and reached out to wipe away the blood.

A sharp pain shot through his arm when Chibs grabbed his wrist. Juice dropped his beer. Miraculously, it didn't break. It simply landed with a dull clank on the shimmering asphalt. Biting his lip to prevent from crying out, Juice noticed how Chibs looked furtively around. The lot was empty. Nothing stirred.

'Just shelve that shit, Juice,' Chibs urged, 'whatever it is you're feeling, it doesn't fucking matter. Bury it.'

'I w...' Juice protested.

'What is it with you and your wishes?' Chibs snapped. Juice's heart sank. He tried to wrench his wrist free. Chibs simply tightened his grip. As his friend's fingers dug deeper into his skin, Juice gritted his teeth. They glared at each other.

'I was trying to tell you your shoulder's bleeding,' Juice retorted. Chibs peeked at his shoulder and cursed. The pressure on Juice's pained wrist eased.

'Juice...'

Chibs appeared at a loss for words. How do you apologise for mistaking an innocent touch for a come on? The silence between them grew oppressive. Suddenly, they heard a cough. It came from behind them. They turned to find Jax looking at them. Chibs quickly released him and Juice pulled away as if his hand was on fire.

Juice spat on the ground, narrowly missing Chibs. Providing some much needed distraction, Jax beckoned Juice over. He was still reeling from what had just happened. For a moment there, when they were laughing, the air between them had seemed as clear as the blue sky. Now the status quo was effectively fucked. No chance of even pretending that it was intact. Also, his wrist god damn hurt.

It was covered in angry red blotches. Furiously, he rubbed at the sore skin, but these marks were guaranteed to become bruises. Upon closer examination, he could recognise the shape of each of Chibs's fingers. The club president waited patiently until Juice was done inspecting the damage.

Meanwhile, Ratboy emerged from the club house and approached them. The prospect carefully broke the news about Gemma being gone. Jax didn't bat an eye.

'Gemma can do whatever the hell she wants,' he mumbled. A visibly relieved Ratboy scuttled away. Before they went inside, Jax motioned at Chibs.

'Did he ream you out for the stunt you pulled the other day?' Jax asked.

'Yeah.'

If Jax thought that the tension he had just witnessed stemmed entirely from the episode with the kids; that was fine by Juice.

'Well, it was stupid. And potentially suicidal. We thought you had shed your death wish.'

'I have. I'm fine. Everything's fine.'

They passed the bar and went into the Chapel. Jax sat down in the president's chair, grimacing. His features hardened. There were lines in his face that had not been there a week ago, Juice noted. The club president clearly could not handle any more shit, but he wasn't about to tolerate bullshit either. Demonstrating this, Jax pointedly looked at Juice's wrist. The evidence of the violent encounter took its time fading.

'It's the heat. Everyone's getting on each other's nerves,' Juice said. Jax was openly sceptical, going so far as to raise his eyebrows in disbelief, but Juice didn't budge. After a brief pause, Jax sighed and accepted the explanation.

Suddenly, the irrational fear that Jax was about to confide in him popped into Juice's mind. It was ridiculous because Jax usually handled his problems alone. As far as Juice could tell, that was one of the guy's problems.

'Lockdown isn't really helping matters, I gather.'

Reluctant to criticise the security measure, Juice shrugged. Doubt is dangerous, he wanted to say, but he couldn't really picture himself as Jax's advisor. That was more Chibs's job. Jax nodded into the silence. He appeared to want to say or add something but - after what looked like a brief inner struggle - he decided against it.

'I'm just trying to keep everyone alive,' he admitted instead. Juice didn't know how to respond to that. It sounded as if Jax felt the need to justify his decision. Protecting the club and its members: it was the core description of the president's role. It was what Jax had been doing, probably long before he became president.

They stayed there for a while. Jax was slipping back into brooding, which he did a lot lately, while Juice wondered how well the club was served by a president who doubted himself. A president who had so much on his mind that he swallowed Juice's paper thin excuses, because he couldn't afford to care. A president who shouldered a burden that was maybe too heavy.

Eventually, realising that their talk was over, Juice left. Jax called after him.

'You and Chibs? Whatever it is: fix it.'

(***)

Friday.

Insomnia had reared its ugly head again. This time it wasn't shame or worry that caused it. Those were completely eclipsed by Juice's seething resentment. Chibs was back to not looking at him, except for the occasional sideway glance.

The summer continued its relentless streak. Every surface baking in the sun's beams sizzled. Its feverish warmth made being outside during the day unbearable. The temperature inside was hardly an improvement. After sundown, the heat was a little less suffocating, but just barely.

Everyone was anxious for the promised storm to alleviate the tension. Any day now.

Church had wrapped up. A half hearted party was being held at the bar. There were no strippers. There were no porn stars. Besides Tara and Gemma, there were no women. After two hours spent discussing club business, Juice wanted only one thing: to take a leak.

When he opened the door of the bathroom, however, Chibs was already in there. Sarcastically, Juice tried to bow out, but Chibs waved him in. Closing the door behind him and blocking the exit, Juice scowled.

'Aren't you scared I'm going to jump you? Ain't that why you did this?' he asked. His humour was venomous as he displayed the dark bruises on his wrist. They looked worse under the TL light.

'Fuck you. So much for nothing having changed,' Juice bitterly concluded. Moving aside, he unzipped his jeans. He was so consumed by his anger that it wasn't until he was washing his hands that he became aware that something was off.

He caught Chibs staring at him in the mirror. While he waited for the other man to leave, Juice kept up the pretence that the Scotsman wasn't there. Wasn't it bad enough that Chibs was ever present in his mind? Fuck off, Juice thought. He mouthed it at the mirror, because he didn't want to turn around.

'I'm sorry,' Chibs offered. He sounded so damn sincere. As if he really cared. Fuck him.

'Yeah, well. Whatever,' Juice murmured instead. At Juice's refusal to accept his apology, something flashed in Chibs's eyes. His voice was suddenly very low.

'You wanna know why?' Chibs asked. Juice rolled his eyes. The urge to steady himself was strong. He stretched his arms, leaning against the sink. A searing pain shot through his wrist, but he ignored it.

'Not really.'

One step and Chibs was on him. The older man shoved him away from the mirror. Juice tried to speak, but his throat was too dry. He ended up slammed into the wall.

One step and Chibs was pressed up against Juice. His body tensed. They stared at each other. Their breathing was loud in the small room. The fingers twisted in the front of Juice's shirt made the cotton blend feel like barbed wire. Roughly, Chibs kissed him. It was fast. Before Juice could stop pushing him away and start pulling him closer, it was over.

'That's why.'


	6. What a wonderful world

Warning: rating changed to M.

**Chapter Six: What a wonderful world**

Juice smiled. Not once had it crossed his mind that Chibs might want him too. The most he had dared to hope for was that his attraction wouldn't completely ruin their friendship.

His smile faltered when he saw the expression on Chibs's face. The other man looked infuriated with himself. Afraid that Chibs was already regretting it, Juice approached him. Chibs simply put a hand on his chest to stop him.

'Not here,' he warned. That eased Juice's worries somewhat. Apparently, it was his own lack of restraint that angered Chibs. The problem wasn't _what _they were doing, but _where_ they were doing it. Juice could accept the wisdom of those words, especially when Tig sauntered in, seconds after they had stepped away from each other.

Unencumbered by the company, Tig wasted no time in whipping out his dick. Over his shoulder, he grinned at them.

'God bless Unser, huh?' Tig said. When he saw their uncomprehending faces, he finished and zipped up. While he washed his hands, Tig explained.

'A little birdie told Jax that Laroy's off to Oakland for a couple of days. We got sprung, boys!'

Absently, Juice scratched his collarbone. He thought about the unfamiliar coarseness of Chibs's skin. Women didn't have stubble. When he glanced at Chibs, he saw that the Scotsman was scrutinising him intently. Tig took in their subdued reaction and shrugged. He dried his hands and left. The door closed with a neat click. After what seemed like an eternity, Chibs slapped his shoulder.

'How 'bout a drink?'

Relieved, Juice agreed. By the bar, everyone was in excellent spirits. They were toasting Oakland and whatever business Laroy had there. Juice was glad too that the threat was momentarily gone.

The only one who acknowledged that nothing had been solved was Jax. The president was celebrating as much as the others, but he looked troubled. However, he enthusiastically clinked bottles with Juice and managed to look satisfied when Chibs brought them more beers.

The alcohol expelled some of Juice's anxiety, but none of his lust. His heart was racing. He wasn't able to control his breathing. It seemed incredible to him that no one noticed. He tried to taper his excitement by attempting not to stare at Chibs all the damn time.

By his third drink, Juice had settled into a semblance of calm. He was happy after all. Yeah, he didn't want to risk drinking anything stronger than beer for fear of throwing up, but other than that he felt great. Everything was pretty great.

Until he noticed that Chibs had disappeared. Juice had been talking with Happy – or, to be precise, _to_ Happy. He couldn't remember what the topic of their one-sided conversation had been, but now he put his beer down. Outside, the sky immediately pressed down on him. The sun was long gone, but the warmth was not abating. Juice's stomach dropped when he saw that Chibs was mounting his bike.

'Wanna get drunk at my place?' Juice called out, because he didn't know what else to do. This was god damn ridiculous. He was fucking blushing.

Chibs considered the invitation. Finally, he nodded. Juice quickly went inside to collect his helmet and keys. He half-expected Chibs to be gone when he came back. The older man was sitting on his bike, waiting.

Scrambling to secure the helmet with his shaking hands, Juice remembered a few nights ago when he had been having the same difficulty. He had been so sure then that his life was over. Sure that Chibs was going to tell the entire club and that he would lose everything he cared about. Look at us now, he thought.

The drive to his apartment was over too soon. As he led the way inside, Juice's heart hammered in his chest. They left their helmets and keys on the side table by the door. The living room suddenly seemed tiny.

'Do you want...?' Juice began. His voice cracked right around 'want.' Embarrassed, he cleared his throat and started over.

'Would you like a drink?'

'Whiskey?'

'Comin' right up.'

This was no longer nervous anticipation. This was fear. What they were about to do...Juice didn't know if he was ready for it. The roughness of the kiss had already been weird. The thought of having sex with a man was even stranger. Not that he didn't want to. He just couldn't quite work out the how of it and whether he'd enjoy it. Still, that wasn't why he was scared.

Chibs sat down on the couch. This was one of those rare times when Juice really wished that the kitchen and the living room were two separate rooms. That there was a door he could close. Instead, he was forced to collect glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen under Chibs's watchful eye.

In a gesture that seemed intended to arouse Juice, Chibs stretched his arms above his head. His usually pale arms were slightly tanned. Juice groaned inwardly. He placed two glasses on the coffee table and poured a generous amount of whiskey in both. God knew he needed it.

Sweat was running down his back. The couch protested with a rusty squeak when Juice lowered himself onto it. Chibs shifted to grab a glass. His leg brushed against Juice's and Juice practically jumped out of his skin.

_I swear it's the weather. It's making everyone antsy. It's making me act crazy. Really. It's not the proximity to Chibs. It's not the feeling of his leg against mine. _

It was as if he was trying to explain his behaviour to Jax, but Jax wasn't here. It was just the two of them. Even to himself, though, Juice found it difficult to admit that he wanted Chibs something fierce. The sheer intensity of his desire made him feel uncomfortable. That Chibs could reduce him to this was terrifying.

After gulping down a couple more drinks, Juice recognised that no amount of alcohol was going to calm him down. His shirt was plastered to his back. His right foot kept tapping against the coffee table. He needed to be touched so badly that his skin felt as if it was on fire. Somehow that was a good feeling.

'I've never done this before,' he said. This time his voice was reliable. No cracking. Nonetheless, he swallowed nervously.

Chibs didn't comment and Juice didn't give a shit. He wasn't interested in how many guys the other man had had. He didn't mind if this didn't mean anything to Chibs. Fixing Juice with a stare, Chibs downed his whiskey and got up from the couch.

'Bedroom,' Chibs instructed. There was a thinly veiled threat in his voice that frightened and thrilled Juice at the same time. It wasn't like Ruby. Ruby really didn't like him all that much. Her contempt was never feigned. Chibs, on the other hand, cared. Whatever else his friend's feelings might be, Juice at least knew that.

Without waiting to see whether Juice was coming, Chibs disappeared into the bedroom. Juice took a deep breath and followed. They removed their boots and socks first. The air in the bedroom was stale, so Juice opened a window. He put his gun on the night stand next to Chibs's. The Scotsman beckoned him over.

Large, callused hands pulled him closer by the neck and their mouths collided. The moist heat of their swirling tongues proved almost too much for Juice. The aroma of whiskey, cigarettes and sweat blending together in their mouths was familiar. Ordinary. Yet, it felt unlike any other kiss. It wasn't the liquor or the lingering reminder of smoke. It was the sweat. It tasted stronger and muskier than usual.

There was something distinctly male about it. It sent a shiver down his spine. Juice licked his way up to Chibs's earlobe. He took it between his lips and sucked it deeper into his mouth. Chibs murmured something in his ear.

'Just tonight.'

That was it and Juice got it. It fucking hurt, but he got it. Trying to share some of the sting, he sank his teeth into Chibs's lobe. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. They took their turns eagerly undressing the other. Cuts, shirts and pants were discarded. They wrestled each other onto the bed.

Some things took a while to get used to. The heavier weight of his partner. Fewer curves. The fact that Chibs was a bit taller than him. More hair. The extra strength.

What surprised Juice the most was how much it turned him on. It was unbelievably hot. The clammy heat had nothing to with it. It was as if they'd set aside their fire for this one time. Tonight they'd burn.

Their hands were slippery on each other's bodies. Chibs was on top and his hands wandered over the younger man's sensitive skin. It drove Juice crazy to think that those hands could so easily bruise him. Impatiently, he tugged at the fabric separating them.

'I want you in me,' Juice panted. Chibs paused to sit up. He looked down at him. In order to brush his hair back, Chibs took his hands off Juice. The lack of contact filled Juice with longing, though he was about as shocked at what he'd said as Chibs looked.

'You sure?' Chibs asked.

His lust was fucking consuming him. So, yeah. He groped behind him and managed to open the night stand drawer. His hand closed around a tube and a packet of condoms.

While Chibs stepped out of his baggy boxers, Juice rid himself of his last item of clothing too. When Chibs kneeled between his knees, Juice felt his anxiety return. His body tensed. He swallowed audibly.

'Relax, Juicy. I ain't gonna hurt you,' Chibs rumbled. He applied lube to his fingers. Nonchalantly, he reached down between Juice's legs and Juice's breath hitched in his throat. He stayed perfectly still, giving his body time to accustom itself to the strange sensation.

Chibs watched his face closely for any signs of discomfort before adding a second finger. It didn't hurt, because Chibs was being careful, but the feeling wasn't entirely pleasant either. Then Chibs did something. Juice was unsure what exactly it was. A particular curling of his fingers maybe and something amazing happened.

'Fucking hell,' Juice breathed as his hips came off the bed. Chibs's facial scars elongated when he smiled. He kept hitting that certain spot, sending waves of delight through Juice. Suddenly, Chibs leaned forward and aligned himself with the body beneath him.

He slid inside with remarkable ease. Juice let out a long moan. They moved almost simultaneously. Slow at first, but quickly faster. Juice scratched at the other man's back, trying to gain some grip. His wrist smarted and the relentless thrusting became painful after a while, but the pleasure continued to far outweigh the pain.

To Juice's astonishment, Chibs stroked between their bodies and rubbed his cock. Fuck. The caress immediately brought him to the brink. Seconds after, Chibs also came. He pulled out and rolled onto his side.

The air was thick and sluggish. It felt cold on his burning skin, like jelly. He reached into the night stand and produced a handful of paper tissues which he used to clean himself up. The wad ended up on the floor when he was done.

Women usually liked to hear something after sex. 'Let's do this again sometime' worked with certain women. 'You're special' was a good one too. 'I love you' was to be used only in extreme circumstances, like when the sex had been really fucking awesome or when it was true. Both situations applied here, but something told Juice that it was the last thing Chibs wanted to hear.

Juice grazed the chest of his fellow Son with his nails. His skin prickled anew at the touch, but he reluctantly withdrew his hand when he saw that he had Chibs's attention.

'Thanks. G'night.'

Drowsily, Juice closed his eyes. He was in the middle of counting all the reasons why he'd have a hell of a time falling asleep - the miserable heat, Chibs right there next to him, another solid erection – when the sleep deprivation finally caught up to him and he dozed off.


	7. Out of the blue

**Chapter Seven: Out of the blue **

Gasping, Juice woke up. He shoved himself upright. His hands came away wet from his face. It was just sweat. That much he could see by the faint glow of the alarm clock. As he tried to find the light switch, something crashed to the floor. Sounded like a gun.

'Damn,' he mumbled and then, 'Chibs?'

The space next to him was empty. Still warm, though. Yeah, that was not a useful clue in this heat.

He continued to fumble for the switch. His fingers were trembling. It was infuriating. Feeling disoriented was one thing. Vulnerable? Not fucking okay. It was a dream. Dreams meant nothing. Juice desperately attempted to stick to that philosophy, but it didn't work this time. The blood might not be there now, but it had been.

When he reached for the switch again, he located it immediately. His heart was beating so fast that it was almost humming. He flipped the switch and blinked. Chibs's clothes were gone. His gun too. Juice gave up and lay back.

Then he heard a sound coming from the living room. Quickly, Juice stepped into his boxer shorts, picked up his gun and went to investigate.

Fully dressed, Chibs was standing by the front door. He had obviously hoped for a quiet getaway and he didn't seem pleased that he hadn't succeeded. They looked at each other across the expanse.

The Scotsman's entire bearing screamed 'this is not a big deal, so let's not make it into one.' No matter how hard Juice tried, however, he couldn't help feeling defeated. He didn't fail to notice how Chibs's hand hovered above the door handle either. He is itching to get the fuck out of here, Juice realised.

'Roosevelt wanted a sample. To test, or something. I don't know. He knew about my dad: I had to. So, I took the brick and when I tried to put it back Miles caught me. We fought. I won. And then you told me nobody gave a shit about who my dad was, but I was already in too deep. I couldn't stop. It wasn't the Sons they were after. They promised me the club would be safe if I did what they said.'

The speech was muddled, but the message was clear: he had betrayed the club. It wasn't what he had wanted to say. Or maybe it was. Anyway, it was pathetic. He especially resented that whole feeble, 'but it wasn't us they wanted' bit. As if that was a fucking excuse.

'_Fuck!_' Juice whispered. He felt like adding about a million more expletives – because, why the hell did he do that? He didn't fucking get himself sometimes – but he wisely decided to shut up.

Fuck me, he thought. Fuck me for stupidly assuming that Chibs was going to stay the night. Fuck me for even thinking that his presence would help. Fuck me for putting this on him. Just, fuck me.

Juice sat down. He dropped his head, because it felt like lead. Placed his gun next to the full ash tray on the kitchen table.

It started out as a few wayward drops, but soon the rain was pouring down. Instead of alleviating the tension, the drops that fell angrily on the tin roof emphasised how screwed he was.

Suddenly, Chibs was in front of him and clutching his shoulders. Juice released a shuddering breath at the contact.

'Is it over?' Chibs hissed. Juice nodded, numbly.

'Did you sign anything?'

The first boom of thunder reverberated through the apartment, drowning out his reply and breaking through his thin veneer of calm. Chibs gently guided Juice's shaven head towards his stomach. Juice gratefully rested his forehead against the fabric. When he tried to repeat what he'd said, Chibs silenced him by pulling him even closer.

'Never mind,' Chibs murmured. Fingers brushed across Juice's scalp. He buried his face deeper in the dirty leather and braced himself against Chibs's frame.

'It's a'right, Juice. I got you.'

Outside, the rain reached a startling crescendo. A bolt of lightning branched downward raggedly and briefly illuminated the apartment. Juice pulled away.

'Will you always be this nice to me?'

Chibs looked at Juice for a long time before answering. Narrowing his eyes, he curled his fingers around the back of the chair. The only sounds were of the rain gushing off the roof and drumming against the windows. Finally, Chibs nodded reluctantly.

'Aye.'

And fuck if that didn't raise every hair on the back of Juice's neck.

'Mind tellin' me why?'

Chibs caught Juice's wrist. He circled the bruises with his thumb, keeping the touch just light enough for Juice to feel no pain. When Juice sighed, Chibs responded by inching his fingers up Juice's arm. Slowly, he traced the lean muscles and bones underneath the skin.

A little tug on Juice's elbow and he was on his feet. The rain pounding on the roof muffled the sound of their breathing. Juice kissed the scar tissue, silently cursing that fucker Jimmy O. He licked into Chibs's mouth, winding his arms around the other man. Chibs's strong hands were on Juice's hips, applying pressure to his hip bone.

Speed was a guy thing. Rushing through – and sometimes completely skipping - the kissing and foreplay to have sex as soon as possible was standard procedure for them. That was what Juice had always thought. It was what he did, after all. Yet, Chibs still made no attempt to move on to the next stage. They were kissing, almost lazily, and Chibs was deliberately slowing them down by kissing at the corner of Juice's mouth.

His tongue flickered against Juice's lips, but never parted them. Their stubble caused a subtle friction that would probably rub them raw if they kept going. Unable to take it any longer, Juice slipped his hands into Chibs's jeans. Smiling, the Scotsman stepped back.

'Bedroom,' Chibs said. It was the same thing he had said before, but different.

Juice waited on the bed while Chibs undressed. It was better this time. More familiar. More intimate. Juice felt less awkward at having Chibs enter him. They waited for what felt like forever before they finally moved. Their rhythm remained constant throughout.

While Chibs fucked him unhurriedly, Juice sucked on his shoulder, trying to taste the tattoos. His teeth grazed the perspiring skin, leaving tiny blotches that changed from white to red as he watched. He bit down a little harder to leave a lasting impression. It seemed only right after Chibs had marked his wrist.

Deciding to try something, Juice rolled them over and almost off the bed. He then proceeded to ride Chibs. In between thrusts, Juice murmured embarrassing stuff. It mostly consisted of such gems as, 'Come on, fuck me. Harder. I'm so close.' Somehow, when he got nearer to his release, these two priceless words were uttered:

'Love you.'

Horrified, Juice froze. Chibs pretended not to have heard, which didn't exactly ease Juice's growing panic. The Scotsman took the opportunity to reclaim control and flip them over. He pinned Juice to the mattress and simply resumed their earlier leisurely rhythm.

Juice ignored how fucking good the new angle felt, which allowed Chibs to slide a little bit deeper inside, and tried to explain away his declaration.

'That wasn't... I don't mean... Damn. I mean, it's true, but I didn't mean to, you know, _say_ it. It kind of slipped out. Don't say anything.'

As requested, Chibs didn't respond, but continued to bring them closer to the climax. Wearily, Juice reconsidered Chibs's motives. One time was a favour; two times was something else. It was nice too, like Chibs had promised.

'I don't need you to be nice,' he choked out, confused. Again, Chibs didn't speak. He merely picked up the pace. Juice averted his gaze, looking at the rain sweeping in plummeting sheets past the open window. The comforting sound of the brimming gutters soothed his inner turmoil somewhat.

Storms, water overflowing, cleaning the gutters; that was part of regular life. It was normal. This was not. Having sex with your friend and telling him you love him and having him be so nice to you through it all really wasn't normal.

Chibs brought him back to the fucked up present by kissing him. Instinctively, Juice returned the kiss. They moaned into the other's mouths, their breaths hot on strange lips. Juice slicked Chibs's hair back, because it kept tickling his face. Their eyes locked for a moment. That did it.

They shook against each other during, continuing to slowly fuck through their orgasms. Afterwards, they untangled quickly, but not unkindly. As they lay awake in his bed, Juice repeated it over and over in his mind.

_One time is a favour; two times is something else. _

Shyly, Juice reached out, letting his arm nonchalantly fall across the other man's body. Chibs didn't push him away. He didn't move at all. After a few seconds, Juice lost heart. He withdrew his arm. Without missing a beat, Chibs turned towards him and put the arm back in its former place. Around his bare chest.

(***)

Author's note: I cheated a little bit with the title here. The song is actually called Hey Hey, My My by Neil Young or My My, Hey Hey as its acoustic counterpart is named, but the subtitles are, respectively, Into the Black or Out of the Blue. The latter title simply works better with the content of the chapter.


	8. Slip kid

**Chapter Eight: Slip kid**

The next morning, Chibs was gone. Juice had kind of expected it, so he was able to shrug it off. Who gave a fuck what it all meant? Twice was more than he had ever dared to hope for. Now he needed to forget about it. How hard could that be? Pretty damn hard, as it turned out.

The day crept by, but he managed to keep from embarrassing himself. He kept his head down, did his job and got out. Riding home, Juice fooled himself into thinking he was over it. He believed it too: right up until the moment he walked into the apartment and saw Chibs's packet of cigarettes lying on the coffee table.

He plopped a pizza into the microwave and waited for it to be ready. The minutes ticked by like hours, but Juice was determined not to notice the slow passage of time. So, Chibs had forgotten his cigarettes. So what? That didn't mean shit. And Juice wasn't going to do anything dumb, like attach any special meaning to their presence.

While the pizza was heating, he did some stuff around the apartment. Cleaned out his fridge, which almost had things growing and crawling out of it. Collected his mail. Emptied ashtrays. Tried not to think like a chick. Didn't succeed.

Their whiskey glasses were still standing where they'd left them the night before. The pack of cigarettes was right next to them.

He ate the pizza. It was still half frozen. He hardly tasted it. There was a knock on the door. Juice wiped some tomato sauce off his chin. It could be anyone, so he grabbed his gun and held it behind his back as he went to answer the door.

'Hi baby,' Ruby crooned. Disappointed, Juice slouched against the door. His on again, off again ex-girlfriend tried to slip past him, but he wasn't in the mood. Ruby paused in the blocked doorway. Her smooth, flat stomach peeked out from under her tight top. His gaze travelled upwards, over her tits, to her brown eyes.

'Not interested.'

'You're always interested,' she argued. She sounded angry and confused.

'Not now,' Juice answered and he unceremoniously pushed her outside. The element of surprise gave him enough time to quickly close the door. It remained still for a moment and then she threw herself against the door.

'Who is it? Who's the slut? I'll kill her,' Ruby screamed. She kicked and tore at the door. Suddenly, the noise stopped. Breathing pause, Juice guessed: instead it was a change of tactics.

'Fuck you. I can do better than you. Much better. You know, all those times when I pretended that you disgusted me? I wasn't pretending. You're a pathetic loser. You're nothing. You're nothing without me.'

For good measure, she spit at the door. He had half expected a brick through the window and reasoned that spit wasn't half bad. Back in the living room, the cigarettes immediately demanded his full attention. However, he held out.

It grew dark outside as he chewed on a cold slice of pizza. It was gross. He checked the microwave clock. The smart thing to do would be to drop the rest of his dinner in the garbage and try and catch some sleep. It was well established by now that he wasn't smart.

'Fuck it,' he said loudly as he scooped the cigarettes off the table. He was going to use them as an excuse to swing by Chibs's place. Apparently, he really was this pathetic. Juice grabbed his helmet and tried not to think about how Chibs was, of course, going to see right through him and his joke of an excuse.

On the drive over, something inside him churned. Like a sort of omen, though he didn't know what else could go wrong. He was already in much deeper than he had planned.

Chibs was up. Light blazed out from every window in sight. With his helmet under one arm and the crumpled pack of cigarettes in his other hand, Juice knocked. He only noticed the bell afterwards.

The door opened a sliver and then wider. Chibs didn't look happy to see him. He just looked worn down. Juice stuffed the cigarettes into his back pocket, realising how fucking stupid everything was. The Scotsman raised his eyebrows.

'I just...' Juice mumbled. Chibs pulled him inside and shoved him against the wall. Juice dropped the helmet as he hit his head. The door fell shut while they kissed. They wreaked havoc on the house, scuffing the floor, banging into furniture, damaging the plaster, shedding clothes everywhere.

Unfamiliar with the layout of the place, Juice barged into the kitchen. He shimmied out of his jeans. Chibs followed suit. They stumbled against the fridge, veered away from it. Their combined weight caused the appliance to wobble dangerously.

'Hurt me,' Juice pleaded. Chibs didn't seem adverse to the idea and directed him towards the kitchen table. The younger man was made to bend over it. His underwear dangled around his ankles. When the first finger found its way inside, Juice gasped. That didn't slow Chibs down.

Pretty soon Juice was being taken from behind. No lube, no condom, no love, but he couldn't begin to think about that. It hurt like Ruby could never have hurt him. He probably wouldn't be able to walk properly the next day and yet it was exactly what he wanted. Panting with lust, Juice allowed Chibs to fuck him.

Even lying facedown on the table, the light was very bright. Chibs grunted once and it was over.

'You fucking knock me out, you know that?' Chibs murmured, buttoning his pants. He looked exhausted and avoided eye contact. That shit was getting really old.

'Look at me. What are we doing? What's this?' Juice demanded to know. His phone beeped. The tone was muffled by his jeans lying in a heap on the floor. He ignored it.

'Do you want me to say it? 'Cause I'll say it,' Chibs asked. It was a warning. Maybe even a threat. Not the way you want to get hurt; that was the message. Juice definitely wasn't going to like the answer. He had that feeling again. The familiar this-ain't-going-to-end-well feeling.

'No, I don't wanna hear your shit anymore,' he snapped. Without bothering to cover himself up, he reached over to check his phone. It was a text from Jax.

_Meet me first thing tomorrow morning. My house. We need to talk about your fuck buddy._

'Something up?' Chibs inquired. Juice shook his head. Ruby had done something: he just knew it. She wasn't good at letting things go. Fuck. What could she have done to further screw up his life? He sighed.

Chibs kneeled and gently took Juice's dick into his mouth. It was still hard on account of not having finished before.

He moaned and forced Chibs to swallow more of him. It almost had him gagging, so Juice eased up a little. The sound of his cock popping out from between the other man's lips was almost too much. To make sure he wouldn't come right then and there, Juice didn't move.

'I could care less about you,' Chibs emphasised. It sounded empty.

'Yeah, right,' Juice said, grinning. He continued to fuck Chibs's mouth in the middle of the kitchen. It was while he was looking down that Juice realised that Chibs was desperate for it. He could see it in the eyes of the other Son. That was by far the best thing about it. Chibs clearly needed this, needed him.

Shivers of ecstasy ran up Juice's spine. This might be a dirty secret, but it was theirs. And it meant something, no matter how hard Chibs tried to convince him it didn't. As he spilled his seed, Juice suddenly realised something else. What if the fuck buddy Jax was referring to wasn't Ruby? What if the club president had somehow found out about Chibs and him?


	9. Ruby Tuesday

**Chapter Nine: Ruby Tuesday**

Light was already filtering through the curtains when Juice came to. It was like coming out of a coma. He couldn't figure out how anything worked, least of all his brain. When he finally managed to stir, he saw that Chibs was also awake. Chibs looked pointedly at Juice's arms, which were - Juice was ashamed to discover - clutching the other man tightly. God knows how long he's been lying there waiting for me to wake up, Juice thought.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. Chibs didn't seem to care, but Juice wasn't falling for that again. He lay back, enjoying the memories. Then he remembered where he was supposed to be right about now. Quickly, he got up and collected his clothes from all the rooms.

The night before and the day after hadn't met before and Juice guessed that Chibs had not stayed the night at his place because he hadn't wanted the two of them to meet.

Chibs offered him something from the fridge. Juice refused while he hopped around trying to put on his pants. Chibs straightened a side table they had knocked over. Juice made a joke about it. Chibs led Juice to the door. Juice looked at him for one second too many.

You'd have thought the awkward part would have been the waking up together, but instead it was this. Being around each other, interfering with the other's morning routine. It had just a hint of forever and it was fucking scary.

The second awkward moment came when Juice got on his bike. It hurt. Rough might make for good sex, but it didn't make for enjoyable motor riding. He winced and shifted until he was as close to comfortable as he could get. Nevertheless, the drive over to Jax's was not fun. Juice was glad to discover that it was fine when he walked. Sore, but fine. Apprehensive, he knocked on the door.

Tara answered it. She wore a faded, oversized shirt and chequered shorts. No makeup. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was a mess. She was still hot, though.

'You here for Jax?' she croaked. Juice nodded.

'Come on in. He's in the shower.'

Trying not to eye her legs, Juice followed her inside. He closed the door behind him. In the kitchen, she told him to sit, which Juice almost did until he remembered; then he declined. Tara shrugged. It was less a sign of indifference than a broad, friendly 'suit yourself' motion. Stretching, she yawned.

'Sorry. Coffee?' she offered. Juice accepted and said thanks. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. Why couldn't he love a woman? That would make his life so much easier and it would look a great lot more appetising in the morning to boot. That took his thoughts to how Chibs had looked when they had woken up and his dick twitched. So, apparently Chibs was plenty attractive. Before it could become a full hard on – which would be pretty difficult to explain to Jax – Juice reminded himself why he was here in the first place.

He had been summoned. That was rarely a good thing. Nervously, he cracked his knuckles. Tara turned away from the coffeemaker and scrutinised him.

'Are you in trouble?' she asked. He stared straight into her eyes. They were piercing and fearless. Juice wished he could be as direct as Tara. He tried to smile.

'Don't know yet. How's your hand?'

The cast was still around her wrist. She looked at it as if she'd forgotten. An expression flitted across her face. It was gone too fast to properly see and Juice doubted he would have known what it meant anyway. She is a lot like Jax in that respect, Juice realised. If they wanted to, they were both nearly impossible to read. Tara smiled. Fake or real? He couldn't tell.

'Better. I'm going to check on Abel and Thomas for a minute, okay?'

The only indication that something was off was the forgotten coffee. Juice heard Tara call out, informing Jax that he was here. Doors opened and closed. Juice poured himself a cup and drank it standing at the counter. Abel tottered into the kitchen, but Tara picked him up and – after exchanging a look with Jax – took him into the living room. Oh yeah, Juice was in trouble alright.

'Your girlfriend called me,' Jax began. He sat down, gestured for Juice to get him some coffee too. Juice happily obliged. His mind was spinning. Why would Ruby call Jax? What could she tell him?

'She told me that you were with Chibs yesterday,' Jax said. He kept allowing gaps to fall in between his sentences, giving Juice the opportunity to respond, but Juice resisted the urge to fill in the blanks. Jax nodded, as if this was the reaction he had expected.

'Ruby says that you spend the night with him.'

Agonising pause.

'She claims that you two are lovers.'

Too long. He knew what was coming and still he waited a fraction too long before responding.

'What?' he laughed, dismissively. 'She must have been drunk.'

Jax appeared to consider this, but Juice didn't buy that. Like Jax would believe his bullshit.

'She's just mad that I broke up with her. For real this time,' Juice added. Great. Now he was protesting too much. He should have stuck with simply laughing it off. Jax took a sip of his coffee and nonchalantly explained that Ruby said that she had proof. Photos.

Juice froze. The brightly lit kitchen table flashed before him. They hadn't taken the action into the privacy of the bedroom until much later. Fuck. During the silence that followed, Jax continued to watch him closely. Eventually, he shoved the chair beside him out as an invitation.

'Ain't you gonna sit?' he asked. The question was a little too innocent. The first thing that came to Juice was 'nah, I'm fine,' but that would arouse Jax's suspicion. Slowly, Juice sat down. He didn't flinch or anything, but he had nonetheless given the game away.

'I take it you're a bottom.' Jax shook his head and whispered, 'You stupid bastard.'

The observation sounded less disgusted than disappointed. It was similar to a father talking to a son who had made a mistake. Not too serious a mistake either. Kind of like getting caught sneaking out at night when you had been grounded. Not having had a stable family life himself, Juice was just guessing at normal here.

'So that was what all the tension was about,' Jax murmured, more to himself than to Juice. Abel was talking up a storm in the next room with Tara now and then weighing in with a few words. They both listened and Jax smiled faintly before focusing on Juice again.

'Well, you got it outta your system now.'

At the suggestion that it was finished, Juice started. The president sighed.

'Juice, you have to end it.'

'I can't.'

Juice didn't even say that he wished that he could, because he really didn't. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted a life with Chibs. He looked into the other room. Tara was sitting on the floor with Abel in between her legs. They were piecing together a puzzle. She brushed her hair out of her face and looked up to meet Juice's eyes. Her expression was sympathetic. She got up and entered the kitchen.

'Good morning, babe,' Jax drawled as he pulled her into his lap. If Juice hadn't been there, it could have been a regular morning in the Knowles-Teller household. A random scene of domesticity. Jax kissed Tara. She laughed before struggling to get to her feet. It was a big throaty laugh. Definitely genuine.

'Not in front of Juice,' she warned. Her protest brought a smile to the president's face.

'Prude,' Jax shot back, but he reluctantly released her from his hold. Juice barely knew Tara, but as she poured herself some coffee, he thought that he knew what she was doing. She had seen that he had been about to crack and was buying him some time, giving him a breather. Jax obviously understood it too. And Tara knew that Jax got it. They sized each other up over their coffee mugs, grinning, and Juice observed them with interest.

As if he hadn't just been told that he couldn't have this. They exchanged another look and Tara nodded, grabbed her coffee and left. Jax watched her ass as she exited the room. With an apologetic smile that softened her features, Tara closed the door between the rooms. Immediately, Jax leaned forward and laid down the law.

'You don't get it. I'm not asking you. This is me telling you to put a stop to it. Now, personally I don't give a shit, but that is the way the club works. You don't fuck other Sons.'

Something kicked in then. Some sort of self destruction or defence mechanism. It was hard to tell the difference. Juice didn't really do sarcasm, but it rolled off his tongue as if he was an expert.

'Why? Too hard to decide which one would be the old lady? What exactly were the first nine worried about when it came to members fucking members?'

'Watch your volume,' Jax hissed, fixing him with an angry stare. Effectively silenced, Juice blinked. Whatever tiny spark had ignited his sudden outburst was snuffed out. Or rather, redirected. He knew who was to blame for this: Ruby.

'End it. That's an order, you understand?'

(***)

It took Juice the better part of the day to track Ruby down. She wasn't at her work, which made sense since it was Sunday. She wasn't at her parents' house either. Juice didn't know any of her friends. It hadn't been that kind of relationship.

He scoured the streets of Charming for her, but the longer it took the less he wanted to find Ruby. What was he going to do when he found her? He couldn't beat her up: she was a woman.

There she was; entering a store. She was alone. Juice parked his bike and waited until she came outside. He snuck up behind her and yanked her bag off her shoulder. Ruby paled, but didn't object as he emptied the contents on the pavement. His boot stamped on her phone until there was nothing left except slivers of dark plastic and a dented memory card. He plucked the card from the wreckage and slipped it into his pocket.

'I hope for your sake that I just destroyed all your proof,' Juice growled. She nodded. It was a scared little nod. But there was something else in it too. Pride. Respect. Juice turned away from her. Fear and respect went hand in hand with Ruby. He had always known that, but to see the evidence of it made him sick. Not as sick as the thought of having to face Chibs and tell him that it was over, though.

(***)

At the clubhouse that same night, Juice went to the bathroom to collect himself. He hadn't said anything to Chibs yet about his visit to Jax, because, well, he was a coward. He couldn't bring himself to end it. End what? If he was honest with himself, it had never started. If he was brutally honest, there was really no need to even tell Chibs. Juice only had to stop inviting Chibs over to his apartment and showing up in the middle of the night at the other man's place. From the very beginning, Chibs had made it perfectly clear that he was not interested in anything long term. That was a good thing. It just didn't feel like a good thing.

'Snap out of it,' he whispered at his reflection in the mirror. He splashed his face two, three, four times with cold water. That was better. Jax sauntered into the bathroom and Juice didn't look away fast enough. Now he was stuck with a visual of the president's dick. That made him think of Chibs and how he'd like to have Chibs's dick in his mouth. He groaned.

'You okay?' Jax asked. Quickly, Juice nodded and smiled. He was officially going to get his shit together. No more emotions and whatnot screwing with his mind. Chibs and Juice were over. In complete contrast to that resolution, Juice posed a question to Jax.

'Can I ask you something? It's about... this morning. Why me? Why didn't you tell Chibs?'

There was something like pity in Jax's gaze, which should have clued Juice in to the shock he was about to receive. As it was, he was taken completely unawares.

'Because he knows.'


	10. House of the rising sun

**Chapter Ten: House of the rising sun**

Juice went through a cycle of emotions in a matter of seconds after Jax left. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Anger that Chibs had hidden this from him. Happiness that this might be what had been holding Chibs back. Then that sinking feeling again, because he realised that they were done.

When he settled on the anger to tide him over, it was a conscious choice. Anger felt most comfortable. He gripped his right wrist and twisted. The flesh turned white and, when his fingers slipped, red. He smacked his wrist against the sink until he lost count. He tried not to make any noise. The last thing he needed was for someone to come in to check if he was okay.

The pain was twice as bad when the sink connected with one of the old bruises. Good. He wanted to cover those up. Not see Chibs's hand on his skin every time he looked down. Juice bit his tongue bloody to keep quiet.

He would have kept banging away, if Chibs hadn't come in. Abruptly, Juice stopped and slipped his hand into his pocket. He turned away from the other man's concern. Chibs cautiously came closer. As if I'm a goddamn wounded animal, Juice thought.

There was something sweet about the slow approach. Something caring and protective. Juice resented the shit out of it. When Chibs reached out to touch him, he backed away. Without looking at Chibs, Juice delivered the news. Spat it out; really.

'Jax told me to end it,' he said, 'So I'm ending it.'

Simple as that. He smashed his shoulder into Chibs on his way out and slammed the door behind him. Curious looks accompanied Juice as he made his way through the clubhouse, but it was all a haze. Here he had been thinking that he was going to hurt Chibs's feelings or whatever, when Chibs had known all along that they couldn't last. Screw him.

The roads were slippery, but he didn't adjust his speed. He could feel the tires lose their grip ever so slightly and skid occasionally, but he managed not to crash and burn. That was a disappointment.

Juice drank heavily that night. Partly to fuel the anger. Partly to dull the familiar ache of still wanting, wanting, wanting Chibs. His jaw ached with its intensity. In an attempt to get it 'out of his system' like Jax – understanding _nothing_ - had suggested, Juice pulled his dick out and jerked himself off. He thought of Chibs the entire time. Chibs's hand between their bodies. Chibs's mouth sucking him off. So much for forgetting.

Coming was a sad affair. Juice wiped his fingers on the couch and felt like crying. Instead, he poured himself another drink. The glass clanked against his teeth. The alcohol burned his throat and made his eyes water. He drank too fast, coughed and took a bigger sip. The ache refused to be dulled. He didn't know what he had expected; just not this.

They say that for every high there must be a low. Well, the high felt fucking cheap if this was the low. He wasn't sure who he was kidding there. Every single second with Chibs had been worth it. Juice drank while the night grew long and cool. Eventually, he went to bed and sleep claimed him.

(***)

There was blood in his mouth. Not Miles's. His own blood.

'Shh. S'alright. Go back to sleep.'

Everything swung into place awfully quick. There were arms around him. Juice propelled Chibs out of bed. The room wavered as Juice struggled to get up. He took one head-clearing breath before charging.

They crashed into the wall. Juice's forehead scraped along the wallpaper. Chibs groaned. On his first try, Juice missed the intended target. His fist hit the wall with a dull thud. He flinched and tried again. Satisfied, he rained blows down on Chibs until the other man recovered enough to push him away.

Chibs raised his hands in surrender. Unsteady on his feet, Juice glowered at the other man. The bedroom lurched violently. Juice swayed with it and laughed.

'You knew it wasn't allowed. So, why?'

They panted. Chibs didn't answer.

'Well?' Juice demanded, shoving Chibs. He still didn't respond.

'I don't get it. You could have chosen anyone. Why me?' Juice asked. He closed his eyes and remembered the conversation somewhere at the beginning of this whole mess where he'd told Chibs that he loved him. God, he felt sick. He thought about the time when he'd blurted it out during sex.

That sent Juice running for the bathroom. The alcohol burned even more coming up than it had done going down. Dragging himself up by the sink, he saw in the mirror that he looked like hell. His eyes stung. He held his head underneath the tap and washed his face. To get rid of the vile taste, he drank some water.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Chibs was waiting. Again like before; sitting at the kitchen table. The house had stopped moving, but Juice's motions remained shaky. He rummaged in the kitchen drawers, looking for a peppermint. Held it up to the light to inspect it. Popped it into his mouth and swirled it around.

'How did you get in?' Juice croaked. The words were like sandpaper to his throat. Chibs dodged the question.

'What happened to your wrist?' he asked instead, glancing at Juice's mangled wrist. Two can play that game, Juice thought, pointedly ignoring the question. Wordlessly, Chibs offered him a cigarette. Juice shook his head and watched Chibs light a cigarette and inhale deeply.

'It can't go any further than it already has. This has to be it,' Chibs informed him. Juice observed as Chibs gestured with his cigarette to indicate what he meant – you, me, us. Last time Juice checked, _he_ had been the one to break it off, so this little show really chapped his ass.

'You don't need to remind me,' he snapped, adding that at least Chibs had known all of this going in. Out of another drawer, Juice retrieved a packet of cigarettes. Then he sat down and lit one of his own cigarettes. Chibs sighed.

'Tell me you'll be fine.'

Juice raised his eyebrows. The bastard had some nerve. Slowly, with vicious twists, Juice ground his barely lit cigarette to a pathetic stub.

'No, I'm not gonna lie. I don't think I'll ever get over you. But let's not dwell on that,' Juice replied. It sounded bitter and awesome. Hey, I'm getting the hang of this sarcasm thing, he thought. Chibs clearly wanted him to stop, but he continued mercilessly.

'Look at me. Look me in the fucking eye and tell me that you don't want this as much as I do. Tell me that you don't wish we could have it. And don't give me any of your 'it's only gonna trip us up' crap. Tell me that you don't give a damn about me, if that's the truth. I dare you,' he yelled.

The Scotsman looked anywhere but at Juice. His cigarette dangled forgotten between his fingers as he swallowed: thickly and repeatedly. When Chibs finally did look up, Juice realised to his surprise that he had absolutely floored Chibs. Knocked him out. Defeated him.

'You were never just anyone to me,' Chibs admitted hoarsely. Their eyes met and immediately parted. Juice found himself swallowing too. The ache was back in full force. Now it felt a lot like loneliness. He stared out of the window and discovered that it was no longer night, but morning. And it was over.

Juice cleared his throat. Chibs pushed his chair back and got to his feet. Awkwardly, Juice extended his hand towards the other man. It was ridiculous and they both knew it.

'Fuck that,' Chibs said, drawing him in for a kiss. They could have fucked right then and there. One for the road. Maybe they should have. Juice wondered about that later and couldn't decide whether it would have made everything that followed better or worse.

It wouldn't have changed the fact that he couldn't touch Chibs anymore. Or that they would always be reminded - by the Sons surrounding them - that what brought them together also kept them apart. This life was his to live. This ache was his to own.

Juice regretted nothing.

The end.


End file.
